Drifter
by Championship Vinyl
Summary: This is a oneshot that takes place when Akima's 13, and is basically just a story of Akima becoming Akima. I wanted the whole unusual hair thing to be sort of an act of rebellion, so see what you think. I need readers and reviewers , please!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Titan A.E. or Akima. I do, however, own Jonah, the guys, and a bag of peanut M&Ms. Just thought I'd throw that in.**

"I got it! I got it!"

"No, no! To the _left_!"

"_Akima!"_

"Huh?" Akima looked up just in time to see the old baseball hurtle past her head. A few yards away, the guys gave her a blaming glance and threw their gloves to the ground.

"That was _right at_ you! Are you _kidding_ me?" Tag whipped the ball at Akima's feet in demonstration.

The other team of ragtag refugees sauntered toward home, swinging their bats and shouting variations of "Nice going, Akima," and "Better luck next time."

Akima re-tied her jet-black ponytail and leveled the boys with a challenging glare. "I didn't see _you_ taking any dives, Tag."

Tag responded not to Akima, but to Jonah, as he often did. "Man, this is what you _get_ for putting a _girl_ on the team!"

The girl in question rolled up her sleeves and marched toward Tag, fists raised, but Jonah stuck an arm in her path. "Dude. She can take you. Just go fire up the bikes."

Tag and the rest of the guys made themselves scarce, and Jonah blocked Akima's path to the bike hangar. "What's with you?"

"_Nothing_."

"Noth...wh...that pass was a mile wide!" he stuttered.

"You're not my _mother_, Jonah."

"Look," he sighed, running a hand through his gel-hardened red hair. "Maybe you oughta cool out here for a while. You know, give 'em a chance to cool off."

He turned and headed for the bike hangar, leaving Akima alone in the synth-steel alley. "Follower!" she spat at his back.

She slumped down against the wall and listened to the sound of five motors revving and five boosters powering on. Tag she was used to, but she expected better of Jonah.

After a silent minute or so, a small, red-headed human life form materialized at Akima's side. Then another.

She looked up. "Hi, Akima!" the twins chirped.

She stood from the wall and dusted off her red cargoes, wishing that Jonah's runt sisters would get sick of her once in a while.

"Where's everybody?" Kyn looked more amused than worried.

"They went out on the bikes," Akima answered, and began purposefully marching toward the hangar.

"Where you gonna go?" Bryn looked more worried than amused.

Akima yanked the rusty chain off her bike and tapped in the power code. "If you can't _join_ 'em," she said, and gave the twins a conspiring glance, "_beat_ 'em."

Bryn and Kyn, fascinated by the knowledge of a thirteen-year-old, watched breathlessly as Akima swung a leg across the seat and flipped a series of switches.

In the eight years since the destruction of earth, she'd grown more fond of her zero-grav bike than of any other advancement in the drifter colony. Now, as she pressed a hand to the palm scanner, she felt the arrival of her one best friend: that old familiar hum of adrenaline.

The motor started, the scanner began to glow, and the bike lifted two, three, six, ten feet toward the stars, leaving Bryn and Kyn behind like a shrinking pair of stick figures. Akima slammed on the boost pedal, and in a nova of blue flame, shot into the space ahead.

Colonies and debris and stars alike melted into retreating stripes of nameless matter as she flew past them, pushing the bike and its airshield to the top of their capabilities. She surrendered her mind into the void and relished the moment---this, more than anything, was her release. The bike hummed peacefully as it got used to fourth gear.

Until Akima spotted five bike-shaped specks up ahead.

And then she shifted to fifth.

The specks grew bigger at an alarming rate as she hurtled toward the boys, who heard her engines and looked around just as she sped over their heads, missing them by only inches.

"That's what you _get_ for thinking _boys_ know how to ride!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Of course, that was immediately followed by the sound of five motors jerking into fifth gear.

"Oops."

Oh well. Akima recited the commands in her head, _180_, _180_, _manual_, flipped the switches, and the bike followed; flipping, rolling, and jetting back toward the colony.

She heard the five behind her fall into pursuit, and could practically name the order they fell into: Jay, Tag, Jonah, Lon, and last of all Kyle, who couldn't pilot his way out of a trash can. Not that it mattered. She smoked them all.

Landing back in the hangar, Akima pulled heself from her galactic reverie and prepared her bragging rights while she waited for the guys to show. Within minutes, Jay, then Tag, Jonah, Lon and Kyle screeched into the bay, exactly as she'd predicted. But instead of the props she deserved, the first words they spoke were edged in anger.

"You just _gotta_ do _everything_, _don't_ ya?" Tag demanded.

"You don't know when to quit!" added Kyle.

Akima looked to Jonah.

Jonah said nothing.

At that, Akima stormed toward home.


	2. Chapter 2

A latch swung open, the door burst wide, and Akima was back in her room, surrounded by remnants of earth and family once again. The old-fashioned prints in their old-fashioned frames alluded to times and places all but forgotten---that is, _six_ of them did. Th seventh, a photo of her mother, Akima had turned face-down, quite a while ago.

She sat on the edge of her bed, fighting the echoes that swirled in her head like a schoolyard chant.

_Don't know when to quit, Akima._

_Just another earth kid, Akima._

_Trying to be one of the boys, Akima._

A silent rage was building in her. Jonah was truly her friend, but if he couldn't stand up for her, for _himself_, then forget him. Forget them all. The Drej had taken her home, their ships had taken her family, this colony had taken her independence. _No one_ was about to get her dignity.

Marching over to a drawer, she extracted a long, cool, silver knife, the one she'd stolen from the kitchen the day the closet door had gotten stuck. With the other hand, she gathered the straight black hair from her shoulders.

_Can't be one of the boys? Fine,_ she thought, and she held the blade to the silky black rope. She shut her eyes, and with one swift slice, the bundle came away in her hand.

Looking in the dusty mirror, Akima noticed that the front part had come out a little longer than she'd intended. But instead of retrieving the knife, she rummaged through the contents of another drawer.

_Finally. An excuse to use this stuff._

At last, the small, purple bottle came up in her hand, and she wondered briefly what her foster family would say. What Jonah would say.

Until she decided she really didn't care.

From then on, Akima would answer to no one but Akima.


End file.
